A Herald No More
by R.J.P.M
Summary: A vision showed a powerful mage a horrible future. He knew what he had to do, he knew how to change the future. And he did it, he trained the one who would destroy. Now it was up to Vanyel Ashkevron, and all the power at his disposal, to avoid being who he would have,
1. Chapter 1

This is Slash, you are now warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Valdemar Series, that right goes to Mercedes Lackey.

 _'Finally, I am here.'_

Fernel searched for years for the boy, in his mind and in his sight. Ever since _seeing_ that horrific vision, he knew what he had to do. He walked up to the entrance gate, the guards looked at him oddly, the footmen sent out to greet him.

"What da ye be doin' here?" asked a cautious looking Footman. Fernel couldn't blame him, considering what he was wearing, a black shirt and black pants donned in a silver cloak. _'I look like a damned lunatic'_ Though the Footman could have done better with asking his name.

He held up his gnarled wood stick that was just about his 6'4 height, "I am here to see the lord of this land, I have business with him" _'Or more like his son'_ Fernel gestured to the Footman and aimed to the conspicuously large house at the small looking fort with the staff.

"I am afraid we cannot allow you to do that, the Lord Withen does not accept guests he does not know" One of the other Footman said, he seemed to be the leader of the group with how the rest gave him space as he talked.

Fernel raised an eyebrow, "And you would know who the Lord Withen knows and does not know?"

The Footman snorted, "I have served the Ashkevron since the time of Lord Withen's father, I do know who he knows and does not" And then he stared at Fernel, "And he does not know you, state your business or I will call the guards to you" He gave a stare that uttered nonplussed seriousness.

Fernel sighed, "Fine, my business with your Lord Withen is concerning his son, the Vanyel Ashkevron." The Footman stared at him, and then he snorted once more, "I see, I see, so you're one of the men he sent for eh?" He gave a conspiratorial wink, "If you ask me, that boy is hopeless" That confused Fernel, his foresight was good, better than most, but he couldn't predict every little event that could occur.

"Let him in folks" The Footman screamed at the guardhouse securing the gate, and they raised it appropriately. _'Seriously? That easy? What if I was a malignant entity wanting to harm the inhabitants of Forst Reach?'_ With those tumultuous thoughts coursing through him, along with thoughts of the boy, who apparently had a father who sent for men like him for his son, he walked through the gate. Then he saw it, it was like a small army here, no wonder they didn't need to check him for weapons – not that he had any, he favored blasting foes to the ground to battering them with a sword. He thought it a lack of care that they had easily let him in, now, he knew that any one man not a mage would be hard pressed to make this a battleground.

He walked to the front door of the house amidst the stares of the people running about at Forst Reach. When he reached the door, he breathed in, steeled his nerves. He readied himself for what he was sure to be a heavy argument. He raised his hands to knock, then he heard it, a sharp cry coming from the back of the house. He threw his gaze there, his farsight was better than his foresight, and he saw a young boy, cradling his arm, in what seemed to be angled at a unhealthy way, a man looming over him, angry not concerned. He widened his gaze, an audience was there, though they did nothing but watch, for fear of the man or lack of concern, he could not ascertain.

It disturbed him in a way, how people just went to see what the screaming was, then wince as they saw the boy and then left. How the audience didn't seem keen on doing anything to help him. Suddenly it clicked, The man from his dreams, the tundra of cold, the unbelievable magic at his disposal, enough to shake the very world. This was him. The boy he was looking for. Fernel would have laughed if not for the dire situation the child found himself in. He immediately rushed to the back, the boy was still holding his arm, his screams dimmed to mere whimpers of pain, yet the onlookers did nothing, the – what he assumed as the armsmaster- man looming over him did not seem delighted at what he caused nor did he look particularly inclined to provide aid.

"What monsters lurks this place that a child in pain would be ignored?" He asked them in rage, their gazes spun at him. Most shamed, the others indifferent. Fernel in turn ignored them and advanced on the boy, the armsmaster raised his hand to stop him, Fernel merely froze him with a wave of his hand. He could hear the gasps of surprise, awe and fear.

Fernel leaned to the boy, he had little healing gift, but magic knew very little restrictions, especially to someone so adept at it as he. He raised his hand to touch the boy's arm, the boy tried to lean away, fearing more pain by the touch, but then he didn't feel pain, he felt a sort of calm, then he heard a snap then nothing except drowsiness. Fernel removed his hand, the bones were set, in a few days time, it would be completely healed.

With effort, Fernel stood up, using his staff to lean on, the magic he performed was easy, the taxing part was getting up. He heard thundering footsteps, he saw the child cowering in phantom pain. Fernel turned around, he saw a large man, holding a sword, this was the Lord Withen, he saw him, from the vision; a statue encased in ice, face contorted to pain. Entrapped there, alive by his own son.

He no doubt had been summoned by an onlooker or saw the events from the window. In which case is rather annoying, he would not come down for his son in pain, but come rushing down to a man who healed his son? _Of course_ Fernel was a stranger, and a mage – well that probably didn't help.

"Who are you?" He raised a threatening sword at him, other guards and soldiers arming next to him, surrounding him and the boy he healed.

"Peace, Lord Withen, I did come to banter" Maybe he did, considering he was going to take his son away, but seeing the treatment he received here, that's probably for the best.

"Yet you interfered with my son and froze my armsmaster, speak mage!" There was understandable hostility in his voice, Fernel couldn't help but be angry.

"Interfered? I interfered for your son who was in pain. Froze your armsmaster? He tried to stop me from healing your son." He responded, a coldness in his voice. He absentmindedly waved a hand to unfreeze the armsmaster.

"Jervis! Are you fine old friend?" Though the question was directed at the armsmaster, the sword pointed at him did not leave its place, nor did the gaze of this Lord WIthen. The armsmaster nodded then backed and disappeared in the crowds – though he could still feel him.

"I shall say it once more Lord Withen, Peace. I did not come to banter, if I wanted to harm any of you, you would already be in the ground." There was a cheer in his voice as he said this, yet balanced by calm, giving an effect of deadly intimidation. He weaved his magic on his voice, relaxing all those who listened.

Withen lowered his sword, but still clutching it, ready to strike at any provocation, as were the dozen guards behind him, beside him and in front of him.

"Shall we take this inside?" Still weaving the subtle magic he made Withen relaxed more.

Withen stared at him, "Fine, let us go then." The men cleared dispersed, giving a path for him. "Hellum?" A woman appeared at his side, dressed in ordinary clothing. "Yes, milord?"

"Get Vanyel to his quarters and see to it that no further harm comes to him." He ordered, he waited long enough for the woman, along with the help of other maidservants to carry him and move him to his house, then he turned and walked inside the house.

 _'So he cares about his son enough to help him now, but not before, why wait so long?'_ This could be an act of caring, or an act of saving face. Either paints him as a bad father.

As he stepped inside the house, he could notice the mild oddity of it, sure the decorations were nice, the furniture were lovely and the carpets were comfortable. The placements of things was just, odd. _'Every home has its individuality'_ Fernel reminded himself. He followed Withen to the lounge area, filled with couches and a small table in front of him. Withen sat down on one of the chairs and Fernel sat directly across him. They stared at each other for a moment then he heard a shuffling, which was as much a surprise to Withen as it was to him. They both turned to look at spot where the sound came from, and they saw a woman. Lady Treesa.

"Treesa? What are you doing here? I thought I told you to wait at the orchard tree." Withen asked, quite incensed that his wife did not listen to him. Whether it was because of fear of her safety or generally being used to being obeyed, Fernel could not tell.

The Lady Treesa flushed a bit, then she regained her dignity and said, "This man healed our son Withen, it is only proper that I greet him properly as the lady of the house." Though her words were boisterous, her tone and posture were not quite as boisterous.

"Do what you wish Treesa." WIthen sighed, Treesa blinked, surprised at being allowed to stay and not wanting her husband to say change his mind, she plopped down at the chair next to him. Fernel guessed that his relaxing magic was still affecting Withen, though he knew that when he stated what he came here for, it would pretty much be dispelled.

Clearing his voice, Fernel spoke "You both are probably wondering who I am, what I seek and as to how I managed to get inside your fort, correct?" Both Withen and Treesa nodded, "The answer is simple, My name is Fernel Landsong, I got inside because your Footman presumed a lot of things, and finally what I seek is only one thing, your son"

The soothing calm of his voice was gone, it was no longer Fernel's intention to calm them, if they fought he would take them down.

Surprisingly, to Fernel, WIthen did not look terribly angry, or at all remotely angry, he just looked confused. "Take him? Vanyel correct?" Withen asked implorably. Fernel Nodded. "But the monastery said their delegates would arrive a fortnight after today"

Fernel's blood froze, he dropped his head, in doing so, his expression could not be seen by both Withen and Treesa. "What do you mean?" His voice was unreadable.

WIthen looked at him, Fernel could see his face, his farsight allowed him to. WIthen was still confused, "You are from the monastery right?" Fernel looked up his face set in stone, he nodded, "Yes they said you would arrive a fortnight from now, though I did not expect a mage, that explains why the monastery sent only one man and why you arrived so quickly"

Fernel stared at him, making sense out of the situation, this was a father and a lord who allowed his son and heir to be physically harmed that is in no way productive, who was seemingly more concerned about his armsmaster than his own son. And apparently now, he would have sent Vanyel to a monastery of all places.

"You are here for our son" Fernel was knocked out of his thoughts; he turned his gaze left, to the Lady Treesa. _'Some concern, finally'_ She looked to be sad, but not angry, she seemed defeated. _'Concerned for his son, but not enough to defy her husband'_ Fernel was disappointed in both of them. One bringing harm to his own son, the other unwilling to actually fight for him beyond the sniffing she was doing right now.

"Well then," WIthen said, with a clap of his hands, ignoring his silently weeping wife, "Let me see your seal of approval and I shall send for my son to greet you"

 _'Ah, so cautious enough to ask for that. So he does care at least very little about his son to at least make sure I am no fraud'_ Fernel snorted internally, _'More like he cares about his money to make sure I'm no fraud!'_

Fernel decided he was going to take their son now, he had enough of this show of what was wrong with parenting in the privileged class of Valdemar.

"I am going to take your son now" He waved his hand and both the people froze in front of him. Treesa stuck in a pose of crying and Withen stuck in a pose of smile, it was highly comical. But sadly, he thought, this was not the occasion for laughter.

Fernel stood up, with quite a bit of difficulty, then he closed his eyes, tapped into his magic, then the magic of the nodes he could sense, filling him with much magic. After a while, deciding he already had enough magic, he raised his hands, and from it out burst a wave of magic – freezing all it touched. Fernel was concentrating, he made sure it did not affect Vanyel, and that it did not fo further than the borders of Forst Reach.

He had to hurry, the Herald-Mages of Valdemar would no doubt sense his magic, and they would come here. He stopped his spell, feeling it had already gone through the entirety of Forst Reach. He took his staff and then he stopped, the twice damned stairs! He looked at them, then he sighed, and started to climb it.

Vanyel supposed that he was angry, he had many reasons to be, after all, the armsmaster broke his flute, his gittern and most of his instruments, then he threw the remains to the fire, with the permission of his oh so kind father of course, he then had the audacity to take him by the arm and force him to fight him. Vanyel then actually had no chance of winning or even striking a hit, but Jervis would have none of that, it ended with his arm broken and Jervis looming over him with irritation in his eyes, like it was _his_ fault he couldn't last five minutes against that man.

But then again, Vanyel supposed again, he felt more like crying, the few precious things that made him happy were gone, destroyed by the very man who sought to make him miserable. Though, Vanyel supposed the third time, he was more confused than angry or tearful, the man who saved him was a mage, that was in no doubt. He heard tales about them when the usual minstrel or bard passed by, and only they had the ability to stop a grown man with only a wave of their hand, or heal broken bones with only a touch. What confused him was to what a mage would be doing at Forst Reach, his father didn't exactly hate mages but nor did he like them, that was why they didn't have any house mage, like most other noble houses.

He thought and thought, then something came to him, the conversation he had with his father in his study a week ago.

-Flashback-

"Excuse me father?" Vanyel asked, he not quite believing what he was hearing.

"You will be sent to the monastery by this month" Withen said nonplussed.

Vanyel could feel tears at his eyes, he knew this would come eventually, but he did not think it would come so quickly. But he fought his tears back; he would not let his father see his weakness, lest he give more reason to send him away.

"I see father, when am I going by this month?" Vanyel asked, his eyes prickling with the threat of tears, but he managed to hold them back.

"I cannot ascertain, just ready what you have to bring, and no more of that nonsense instruments from you, do you understand Vanyel?" It was not a question, Withen's voice did not leave any room for bargaining.

"I understand father" Vanyel bowed a little then hurriedly exited the room. A few moments later, if someone cared to listed, there could heard sobbing in Vanyel's room.

-Flashback End-

 _'I see now'_ Vanyel thought, the mage came for him; he was probably part of the monastery his father wanted to send him to. It wasn't unheard of for monasteries to have mages after all, that was according to bard Jemson who passed by Forst Reach five summers ago.

Vanyel closed his eyes, burning with resentment – at his father who wanted to send him away because he couldn't measure up to his expectations, to his brother for being so perfect in his their father's eyes that Vanyel could only be a shadow, and to his mother, whom loved him but knew she would not defend him against father.

He opened his eyes and stared at his closet, _'I haven't even packed'_ , he thought forlornly. He knew it was by this month, and father confirmed it was going to be a fortnight from today. The man was a mage, Vanyel realized; he probably threw himself here or something. He stood up to pack, then he felt it, a wave that pushed him back a couple of feet, it tingled in his skin, then nothing. Vanyel was alarmed, whatever that was, it didn't come in peace.

 _'It was probably from the mage'_ , Vanyel thought. But that brought more questions than Vanyel could reasonably answer by himself; Vanyel decided against going downstairs, however, mages didn't cast magic that strong for no reason, but then again, he reasoned, what did he know of magic exactly? Well, he wasn't going to risk it.

Something was off though, there wasn't any screaming or screeching from the more frightful people of Forst Reach, and if they felt what he did, which they surely would have, after he of all people felt it, then chaos would have surely followed. Yet strangely, there was none, not even a sound, it was quiet, eerily so.

But, as he had said, he wasn't going to risk it, there was a small army that were much more capable of handling threats than he could. So he stayed put, basking in the silence, he was sitting on his bed, getting more uncomfortable as the seconds passed, which he counted. He stretched his back then resumed counting, only to jump and fall on his behind when he heard a huge lugging sound near his door.

Vanyel was near terrified enough to forgo any movement, but fortunately, Jervis's vigorous training allowed him to be in control enough to grab a chair and stand by his door. The lugging sound grew closer, then it stopped directly at his door, Vanyel grabbed the chair in his hands tightly, Jervis said the element of surprise could beat opponents stronger than he was, and the one behind that door was surely stronger than him and also surely an enemy.

The knob on the door twisted ever so slightly, then it stopped, the knob went back in place. There was a cough behind the door, then a knock. Vanyel blinked, a knock? _'I must be wrong, what enemy knocks on a door?'_ Another knock, then another knock, _'Perhaps no enemy then?'_ , Vanyel was deciding on opening the door or not, the one behind the door could be an enemy out to kill him, and if allowed him to get in, he was giving up his only advantage, surprise, but then did it matter? By the silence he was hearing, or not hearing, everyone in Forst Reach must be incapacitated or dead somehow, what amounted to a small army was in Forst Reach. Someone capable of making this silence possible wasn't someone Vanyel could hope to defeat.

Vanyel sighed, dropped the chair and went to the door. He steeled himself for whatever may lie beyond the wood in front of him. Vanyel reached forward with his hand, he touched the knob, then pulled it slowly. Vanyel held his breath, fearing any sudden movements may come out of the door and strike him down; slowly he pulled the door open. Still waiting with baited breath for any attacks, yet none came. He could see a hood, then a silver cloak. Feeling ridiculous with his slow movements, Vanyel decided to just open it.

He saw the build of a man, face hidden by a hood, with a black shirt and pants, covered by a silver cloak. In the man's right hand, an ordinary walking stick he was leaning on. _'Wait'_ Vanyel thought, this was no enemy, this was the mage who healed him minutes ago. Vanyel stared at the man, unsure of what to do. The man coughed at him politely, startling Vanyel.

"Will you let me in your room young Vanyel?" The way the man phrased it was odd, the way he said young was as if he truly wanted to believe that that word applied to him – Vanyel didn't look old, did he? He would have looked at the mirror if not for fear of offending the man in front of him.

"Milord mage, my room is yours to enter" Vanyel responded, his voice pitchy yet balanced by his politeness. The man chuckled, and with painful sluggish steps, he entered the room.

Vanyel stared at the man as he took leisure in walking, leaning on his staff; it was eating at Vanyel's patience. Finally, after what seemed to be candlemarks, he stopped at the front of his bed, and literally just sat down. The man seemed to be catching his breath.

"Lad, sit down will you? I have to tell you something" The man said between mouthfuls of breaths. Vanyel did not dare object, he took the chair he had planned on using as a weapon near the bed but not near enough for the man to be able to grab him.

Vanyel politely waited for the man to gather himself enough to hold a conversation. What did that man do to be so out of breath? He looked young enough, and he sounded young enough to be near the age of one the guardsmen here in Forst Reach, and that guard was certainly young and fit enough to run through the entire Forst Reach and still just be slightly out of breath. Perhaps the man wasn't fit? Vanyel looked at the man's figure. _'Not likely'_ Vanyel thought, the man was fit, he could see the muscles on his stomach.

Vanyel pulled his stare away from the stomach before his innocent thoughts receded to different, much more sensuous thoughts. Vanyel looked at the man's hood; he seemed to have rested enough to be able to talk straight, and the man apparently thought the same because he looked at Vanyel and sighed. He reached out to his hood, and pulled it down to reveal.

 _'Old'_ was Vanyel's first thought, the man had silver hair, then he looked at his face, it was young. Younger than any guardsman here, he was probably just five summers older than Vanyel. His hair was down to his chin, and just above his chin was a dark lips that contrasted with the man's ashen white skin. He was smiling at Vanyel.

Vanyel could feel his heart skip a beat at the smile, it was, as far as Vanyel could see, far from any malice or bad intentions, and it made the smile all the more attractive. Vanyel knew women did very little for him, it was a discovery he had made when he accidentally walked in on one of the guardsman, Hreloc, sinning with his own hands. The way he had groaned and moved his hand on his shaft was mesmerizing to Vanyel, of course he immediately left and vowed to knock every time he would enter someone's quarters. It wasn't his only vow though, he knew if his father, or anyone at Forst Reach knew, they would brand him an unnatural creature and cast him away, or worse.

"You brood in front of people much child?" Vanyel was startled out of his musings at the voice, he looked at the man only a few years older than he, still with a smile, only now with amusement.

Vanyel stifled a comment he would have said, and would surely have gotten him turned into a frog or some sort of creature, "Not much milord mage". Vanyel was bristling at being called a child by a man only a few summers his senior.

The man laughed, his deep tenor sending cool shivers up Vanyel's spine, Vanyel resisted showing the pleasantness to his face, but it didn't work, the man caught Vanyel's expression before Vanyel squashed it down.

"I apologize Vanyel" The man sighed, confusing Vanyel, then the man closed his eyes for a moment before opening it. "There, that must be all better now"

That was odd, Vanyel thought, the man's voice changed somehow, it didn't affect as it did when he spoke before. _'Magic'_ Vanyel realized, whatever the man did to his voice, it calmed him and… well it aroused it him somehow, and now that the man stopped it, Vanyel could clearly think about the events that were occurring right now.

"Who are you?" Vanyel asked. If the man wanted him dead, he would already be dead, the man was a mage, he felled Jervis, and apparently all of Forst Reach, what chance did he have?

The man chuckled, "Yes, how rude of me. I am Fernel Landsong, adept mage, conqueror of the wilds, seeker of magic" The man said, chest swelling with pride. Vanyel stared at him blankly.

"I see" Fernel seemed to pout that Vanyel didn't reciprocate his boisterous announcements of his platitudes. "Are you here to take me to the monastery?"

Fernel laughed at him, "Good acting Vanyel, but we both know you already know the answer to that"

Vanyel's throat hitched a bit, "What did you do to Forst Reach? I can hear no sounds, not even that of the chirping of the birds"

"A spell I cast to ensure we wouldn't be disturbed" Fernel said, his answer chilled Vanyel a little.

"We wouldn't be disturbed, what do you mean?" Vanyel asked, desperately praying that whatever his spell was, it didn't kill of all of his family, most were mean to him, but that did not mean he wished them harm.

Fernel stared at Vanyel, as if looking for the right words to phrase whatever that was in his head. After a few seconds, he spoke. "I was looking for you Vanyel" That answer chilled Vanyel even more, what did the man want? He was afraid of asking, but he didn't have to, it was as if Fernel could read his mind.

"Do not be alarmed Vanyel, I have looked for you for a long time, I did not come here to bring you harm" Fernel raised his hands, and Vanyel calmed a little, it was annoying to him how Fernel could just control his mood like that, were all mages capable of doing that?

"Vanyel, what do you know of magic?" Fernel asked, his voice calm, yet Vanyel knew it wasn't layered with magic because it didn't really capture his whole concentration.

"I know very little of it, only occasional tales from travelling bard and minstrel, milord mage." Vanyel responded politely and carefully.

Fernel sighed and rubbed at his forehead, "So common knowledge then?" It was rhetorical, Vanyel could feel it. "Well listen to me carefully Vanyel" Fernel said, when before it was playful, it was now only serious. Vanyel nodded.

"What is magic? That is a question that millions of all of Velgarth have asked before us, and will continue to ask after us." Fernel had his eyes trained at Vanyel, as if willing him to understand his every word. "Magic is simply an ancient force unlike any other, a force that has existed since the advent of thought itself. It is within the very earth we stand upon, the very world itself, and sometimes, even its inhabitants."

Vanyel loved knowledge, and though he was straining to make sure he did not miss any word, making sure he understood what the Fernel was saying, making sure he had the right questions after this, Vanyel couldn't quite see why Fernel chose to give this as an answer to Vanyel's question.

"Since magic is a force, there are those who harness its energies, those who can use it. They have been called a lot of things in the past, abominations, freaks, witches, mages, sorcerers and the like" Fernel said, his gaze never leaving Vanyel, it also didn't seem to blink.

"The names depends on the country, here in Valdemar they are called popularly called mages, some of the more provincial folks call them hedge witches" Vanyel wanted to ask a question but Fernel silenced him with a look. "Let me talk first Vanyel, you can ask your questions later"

Fernel took a breath, the began speaking again, "Now, Vanyel, there are those who manifest the ability to use magic a few summers after they are born, here in Valdemar they call it the _mage gift_ , they are taken to schools to be trained in its use" Vanyel knew that, his aunt Savil was a mage, it wasn't something his father liked to speak about.

"Then there are those, who are born with the ability to harness magic, they are extremely rare and often very powerful" Fernel spoke, Vanyel knew this was instructive, but he did not know why Fernel was speaking of this to him, or how it had anything to do with him, or Fernel being here. Vanyel would have asked if he had not already been silenced by him.

"Finally, there are those who have this _mage gift_ but have not manifested it and cannot harness magic" Vanyel stared at him, he really didn't see the point to this, it was still a nice lesson though, if one ignores the fact that this man probably incapacitated the whole of Forst Reach.

Fernel pierced him with a stare, "You may be asking, what does this have to do with you? Well Vanyel, I already told you"

Vanyel stared in lack of comprehension for a few moments, before it dawned on him. "You're saying I am a mage?" Fernel laughed, Vanyel would have loved to knock a few teeth loose out of him, but he held himself back.

"No not yet, but I feel it inside of you Vanyel, the potential to do magic. It is latent but it is there" Fernel said, though his tone was with merriment, his eyes were not.

"I can help you unleash it, to control it" Vanyel stared at Fernel, unsure of what he was asking. Seeing Vanyel's expression, Fernel sighed.

"Do you like it here Vanyel?" Vanyel would have automatically said yes, but something compelled him to the truth, "I don't like it here, but I don't have a choice, this is the only place I can go to"

"So you don't" Fernel said, "Come with me then Vanyel, you are wasted here"

Vanyel's response before this conversation would have been a no, but after everything Fernel said, he knew what his answer was, but he daren't voice it out loud, so he decided to stall for the answer.

"Is that why you didn't want us disturbed? You wanted to talk to me, to make me leave this place with you?" Vanyel asked, hoping that Fernel would answer long enough to allow Vanyel breathing room to think about leaving, or not leaving.

"Not make you Vanyel, ask you. I will honor whichever answer you will give me" Fernel said, his voice spoke honesty.

Vanyel stared at him, thinking of an answer though he already had one, he knew he couldn't stall forever. For all that Fernel was an image of peace and patience Vanyel could see his fingers starting to tap on his staff. It was subtle, but Vanyel knew he running out of breathing room to answer.

Vanyel thought about it, his family disliked him, except for a handful of them, most of the servants here hated his privileged status though he was weaker than most of them, and nearly all the guardsmen were uncomfortable near him, though Vanyel knew why. And just a week ago, his father told him he would be sent to a monastery to be trained. It truly was no competition to as to what his answer was, but…

Though he mostly hated it here, this was still the only home he had known of, this was where his family was, and even though they mostly disliked him, they were still family. But this man promised him a new home, assuredly a better one, and comfort, and magic, and perhaps even allow him music. Vanyel thought for a while, before he sighed and looked Fernel straight in the eye, whom by that time had already looked to be impatient.

"I will go with you" Vanyel said, it was a straightforward answer. Fernel stared at him, "Are you sure?" Fernel asked.

"Yes, just as you said, I am wasted here" Vanyel replied, his voice was with conviction.

Fernel smiled, "Great, let's go then"

Vanyel blinked, "I have to pack first" He said, not sure if the man expected him to have packed already or that he did want him to pack at all.

Fernel coughed in embarrassment, "I forgot, you aren't a mage" He laughed a little at himself, "We mages have a spell we call a gate" Vanyel blinked at him again, Fernel sighed, "It basically allows us to travel from one place to another place after we pass through it"

Vanyel's eyes widened, "You can do that? Why have I never heard of that before?" Vanyel thought about bard Jemson, and the other bards and minstrel who passed by, but he could not recall anything from their tales even remotely resembling this gate spell.

"Well most mages can't cast it, it requires a large amount of magical energy – larger than most mages have. Also, most mages who can do it prefer to keep the knowledge that they can cast it a secret from everyone." Fernel said, voice proud. "Thankfully for the both of us, I can cast it"

Vanyel rolled his eyes, though making sure it was hidden from Fernel's sight, no need to aggravate the mage after all. "But I still have to pack though…" Vanyel's voice trailed off as he saw what Fernel suddenly did.

Fernel looked at the ground but it was as if he wasn't looking at it at all. Then he stood up straight, raised and his hands and summoned… A sphere of what seemed to be swirling blue energy, standing near as tall as Fernel.

Fernel grabbed Vanyel and told him, "We must go now, the heralds are here stop us" Fernel said with alarm.

Vanyel could suddenly hear thundering sounds, it was, hooves of a horse? _'Most likely the legendary companions of the heralds'_ Vanyel knew what the horses of the heralds were capable of, and by the sounds of it, there were more than one herald here.

Vanyel closed his eyes, briefly lamented the fact that he had not packed, and bid Forst Reach, his family and most of what he had grown used to, farewell. Fernel went through the gate, and Vanyel jumped after him. Vanyel could not know the tragedy he had averted by jumping through the gate, in that instant, the monster he would have been was gone. The cataclysm he would have caused would not happen. Now it was up to Vanyel to shape his fate, for better or for worse.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Savil sighed for the third time this day. She was travelling toward the K'treva Vale to visit her friends, only to be sidestepped by a man in rags who was apparently being chased by a band of bandits – she being the _kind_ herald that she was, decided to help, only to realize that the man in rags wasn't being chased by a band of bandits, but he was _part_ of the band of bandits.

Of course, being a Herald-Mage, she blasted them for ruining her perfect day, and then while riding toward the Vale, she realized that her gold pouch was missing.

A few birds left the trees that day and never returned, some hunters fled too, afraid of the feral monster whose screech surpassed that of gryphons.

And now… AND NOW! She had to be sidestepped, again, to Forst Reach because a mage decided to cast two powerful spells there; she could not yet decipher what the first one was, but the second was definitely a gate.

She had to undo the damage of two spells! Savil sighed for the fourth time. All in the herald's work, she guessed.

There were still leagues she had to traverse before she reached Forst Reach, not wanting to spend candlemarks on riding when her entire family could be in danger, she used the fetching skill she learned as a trainee that propelled her and her companion faster than any horse ever could.

She sped through hundred of acres of lands in mere minutes. To an outsider, it would be as if hearing a dozen horses gallop at once.

Savil and her companion, Kellan, saw the guards at the gate; at first she thought they didn't see them, but as she got nearer, she noticed that they were in poses that were so still.

' _That is so odd'_

She went inside and saw more of the security in Forst Reach, stuck in, some ubiquitous poses, the others somewhat horrible or painful, or both. Savil breathed in the remnants of the magic in the air, and she nearly fell off of Kellan in shock.

 _:What is it Chosen?:_ Kellan asked, sensing her Companion's shock.

 _:This magic, it's something I've never felt before:_ Savil said, her voice held a note of fear.

 _:What? How is that possible? Are you telling me this is a new spell?:_ Kellan asked, the voice that Savil heard held too, fear in it. It was understandable to Savil, few had the magical skill to craft new spells, and most that were created were mere fickle magic used to entertain the ignorant of it. But this spell, it affected, from what Savil could sense, the entirety of Forst Reach… Someone capable of this, Savil hoped it was not an enemy of Valdemar, and hoped that her estranged family were fine.

She sat down to the origins of the first powerful spell that was cast… and she immediately burst down laughing.

It was Withen and Treesa, stuck in poses that were highly comical. She walked and sat down in the middle of the chair in front of them, she raised her hands, and straining to get the nearest nodes to her, she created a magical shockwave that dispelled the effect of the spell on Forst Reach.

Treesa gasped down, breathing harshly, and so was Withen. _'So it did not stop their processes, only their ability to move. Well, fortunately the mage who did this allowed them to keep their vital processes. They'd be dead by now if not'_

Savil considered surveying the area to make sure that the people of Forst Reach were safe, but she would rather leave that to the other Herald and Herald-Mages that she knew were already coming. Savil was the most powerful Herald-Mage as of the moment; she needed to get to the bottom of this event.

"Withen?" Savil asked, not sure if Withen was able enough to answer her questions, "Withen? Are you fine?"

Withen gasped one more time, then leaned back on his chair, relaxing his muscles, "Savil, thank the gods you are here"

Savil knew what happened was as serious as or more serious than she had first thought, her brother rarely said anything good about her. "What happened here Withen? Speak quickly I must know"

Withen spoke again, catching his breath, "There was a man here, he – Oh gods, I think he took Vanyel" His normally proud voice was wounded.

Savil was thinking as fast as she could without alienating the conversation. A mage strong enough to cast a paralytic area spell and a gate spell took her nephew? What would the mage have gained by doing that?

The last time she checked, Vanyel wasn't a mage, nor did he have any potential to be one, so what could he have gained?

Suddenly it clicked to her, she was a powerful mage, but from what she could garner, this man, whoever he was, was a better mage than she. He could have seen something in Vanyel that she couldn't and decided to take what he wanted. Savil could only pray for Vanyel's safety.

Savil saw Withen, tired from the onslaught of both a spell and the loss of his son, she looked to Treesa, in a much worse state, the only thing that kept her from crying inconsolably was because she too was as exhausted as Withen.

Savil stood up, she wanted to comfort her brother and his wife, but this was no such time, she had to get to the second spell that was cast. The gate spell, gods only know what weather disturbances it had caused.

She said a quick statement as to where she was going to both of them and went upstairs.

' _The house's still odd'_ she thought, her father really had an odd sense as to where he wanted the placements of the house to be.

 _:Kellan, how are you holding up there?:_ She asked her companion, whom she left outside to deal with whatever happened here. _:Quite fine Savil, most of the ones I'm seeing here are able enough to recover fine enough:_ Kellan replied.

 _:Well that's quite fortunate then, seems the mage didn't come to harm them:_ Savil said, with some relief.

 _:That means that your nephew might not be in as bad a shape as you first thought:_ Kellan said, her voice comforting to Savil's _ears_. So she had been listening to her conversation with Withen.

 _:I truly hope so, Kellan.:_ Savil replied, a touch of anxiety in her voice. She may not have known Vanyel all that much, but that did not mean she didn't care about him, he was family after all.

 _:The other Heralds are arriving a few candlemarks from now:_ Kellan sent. _'Good_ ' Savil thought, it'll give her enough time to assess what happened and actually see what _had_ happened.

Savil reached the top of the stairs, a little winded but nothing of concern, then she walked, feeling the rip in the fabrics of the land itself. Powerful this mage may be but he wasn't elegant, probably cast in haste when he sensed her arrival.

Savil walked the floor, sensing the magic and then she stopped, in front of a door. She opened it and after making sure there was no set magic in there, she went inside.

The room was lovely, though if a bit forced; it looked masculine enough to be a male's room. This was likely Vanyel's room.

Savil reached out to her reserves and opened her mage sight. She then saw the huge excess of magic where the gate had been. She immediately set on repairing it.

Savil closed her eyes, crunched it in concentration. She felt the tumultuous power of the gate, it was as always unpredictable to those who did not cast it. Nevertheless, she _grabbed_ it with both _hands_ then pulled it to her, she gathered as much as she could, and then she used it to set the damage it caused back to its original, unharmed state.

Opening her eyes, and gazing the damage with her mage sight, she could now find none. _'Now that that's done, time for the next step'_ Savil wouldn't have attempted to do something like this, it usually took her and four more mages to do, but the excess magic from the two spells that was cast here, alongside her own and the nodes she could feel should be enough to allow her to see the past.

 _:Kellan:_ Savil reached out, she needed Kellan's mindspeech to help her cast her spell.

 _:I know Savil, I am ready:_ Kellan replied, her words steady.

' _Well then, all set'_ Savil thought. She found a chair, conveniently beside the bed, and she sat on it. Getting comfortable in the chair, she closed her eyes and willed the nodes to her, then she _grabbed_ the excess magic in the area and added it to the already formidable energies at her command.

She was swirling with energy, her whites and hair picked up by the wind, swirling along the tides of her magic. Savil felt the magic grow stronger and stronger still, but it was not enough to cast the spell she intended.

Crunching her eyes once again in concentration, the very delicate process of combining three different sources of magic required her full attention.

With her _hands_ she molded this power into her own, coalescing it into one energy. It took a few minutes, or candlemarks, she really did not know, but she managed to do it.

Savil felt the magic around her, it was large, _very_ large, but she managed to control it. She gave herself a few seconds to breath, feeling sufficiently rested after a few minutes, she weaved the magic she gathered into herself and she begun her spell.

Savil opened her eyes, she saw what looked to be a young boy and a man leap out into a gate. _'He must be Vanyel, and that man must be the mage who took him'_ Savil thought, _'Wait, why aren't there any binds? Did Vanyel leap out into it out of his own volition?'_

This was odd, Withen said the man took the boy, not that the boy willingly followed the man, then again, Withen was stuck in a spell when this happened.

Savil reversed the time, up to the point the man went up to the gates at Forst Reach. She observed how easy it was for him to get in, the conversation was another odd thing though _'I see, I see, so you're one of the men he sent for eh?'_ , was the footman's exact words. He was undoubtedly speaking about her brother, but what did it mean, exactly?

She followed him, and saw as he heard the scream that startled her as well. Savil went to the back of the house and saw Vanyel. It made her blood boil how no one seemed to come to the child's aid, she looked to the house and saw Withen, his gaze at Vanyel – she couldn't tell his expression from this distance but she was still very angry. _'Why would they do this to Vanyel?'_

The man stormed to the back, spoke some words that appropriately shamed most of those who had heard it, she watched him casually freeze the armsmaster, then heal the child without hitching a breath. Savil stared at what he did, most people assumed that healing was part of magic – it was not. It was part of the healing gift, a different set of skills than magic.

' _This man'_ Savil thought, _'What understanding of magic does he possess?'_ To be able to do something like that, with magic – it seemed to Savil, the work of a true master.

Then the next odd thing, the man seemed to have the build of a young man, but he struggled to get up. An injury? She pondered on this for a moment before she heard a scream of anger.

She looked at the band of men gathered, their swords pointed at the man. Savil heard their conversation, watched the man unfreeze the armsmaster, and then she heard him speak. The soothing voice that almost touched her, _almost_ had this not been in the past, and her merely an observer, it would have fully affected her too.

' _Damn, this isn't the bardic gift, they have to sing to use it. No, this was something else, this was magic, weaved by a no doubt an adept'_ Savil thought, _'Whoever this mage is, his knowledge of magic far by exceeds my own'_

Savil saw them go inside; right after Withen ordered that Hellum girl to help Vanyel. _'If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was saving face'_ Savil thought.

It was impressive how this mage was casually weaving this magic to his voice, and how powerful an effect it had, she saw Withen calm enough to allow Treesa to sit in on their talk, calming Withen was a very big accomplishment.

Savil heard them talk, then he heard them speak, what she heard made her blood boil further to anger. So Withen planned on sending Vanyel to a monastery somewhere, but why would he do such a thing?

' _Vanyel's his heir, or perhaps that's it. He doesn't want Vanyel to be the heir, that's why he's sending him off'_ Savil was putting a puzzle up, it didn't reveal a very good look on Withen, but she held her judgment, she still didn't know the full story.

Though, the man's name was familiar to her, Fernel Landsong, where did she hear it before? If it was important it would come to her.

' _Well, at least he stopped using that magic on his voice'_ Savil thought. She blinked as Fernel seemed to be getting more irritated by both Withen and Treesa as the seconds ticked by. Then, deciding he had enough, Savil saw him speak to them, about how he was getting their son now, Withen was still smiling, the words probably didn't register to him by then, and Treesa was still crying – he raised a hand and froze them.

What Savil saw next disgruntled her somewhat, she saw him gather the power of nodes, near them and farther still, long out of Savil's own range, or any of the Tayledras brothers that she knew, if she was being honest to herself. She would be in awe if not for the fact that this man had his nephew right now. Savil saw him cast the paralytic area spell. Releasing and containing such power within Forst Reach, Savil felt shivers run down her spine.

She saw him casually stand up, as if he didn't just cast a spell that would leave any other, even her, a bit winded. He then he stopped suddenly, and looked at the stairs with what looked to be a bit of fear reflecting in his eyes. _'What's this? Is he afraid of the stairs'_ Savil thought, _'That can't be? Could it?'_

Savil watched the man as he climbed the stairs, there it was again, the odd thing about this man, she could tell that this man had the physique of a young man, but how he was exhausted by such a simple thing as a stair was baffling to her. He literally had to lean on his staff after he reached the top of the stairs to stop himself from falling down in tiredness.

' _Unless'_ Savil thought, _'This is just an elaborate illusion'_ The man was strong enough to cast an area spell and a gate spell, to be able to use magic to heal, skilled enough to cast magic to his voice, illusions would be very easy for him. To test her theory, she opened her mage sight and saw a cloak of magic, enveloping the man, he seemed to be rested enough to move, though very sluggishly towards the door she was in.

She saw him try to open the door, then he sighed, and just knocked. He continued to knock until Vanyel opened the door. Savil blinked at Vanyel. The mage had managed to contain his spell so that Vanyel wouldn't be affected as well. That kind of skill took years to master. Considering the illusion, this man could be her age or someone far older.

The man, Fernel, Savil reminded herself, went inside and she followed them there. She watched Vanyel, stare at the man, they spoke a little, Vanyel sat down and waited for the man to catch his breath. He couldn't hold a straight conversation right now.

Savil took this time to observe Vanyel, he was staring at Fernel's lean stomach, his gaze held a little bit of… was that lust? She saw Vanyel shake his head, then waited, patiently.

' _Is the boy a shay'a'chern?'_ Savil asked herself, _'Could it be? That must be why Withen wants him replaced'_ Savil was disgusted, not at Vanyel but at her brother, if this was the reason he was sending Vanyel to the monastery, then she would give Withen a legendary spanking.

She watched as Vanyel struggled to control himself from looking down at that stomach again, she couldn't blame him, even _she_ was struggling not to look at those rock hard abdomi- _'Stop'_ Savil screamed at herself, _'He's in an illusion, he's probably older than even you'_ But still… Savil glanced down a little bit, and did _it_ look good.

She willed her gaze away. _'Not the right or appropriate place to indulge yourself'_ She told herself. And then the man pulled down his hood, it was the face of a young man, barely out of child age.

Savil opened her mage sight again, and she saw it, the illusion crafted on his face – this man was more powerful than she, certainly more skillful, but this was the past, he couldn't fight back, Savil snapped at the illusion, piece by piece, with each strike she could see the visage hidden underneath. Only one more tear and the illusion would be unraveled, Savil struck. And what lay beneath confirmed her theory.

This man was old, looked to be as old as she. But why hide in an illusion? A thought occurred to her _'Maybe the man wasn't here because Vanyel had magic, maybe his aim was to seduce and take Vanyel as his slave'_ It was chilling, and hoped desperately it wasn't true, for there were after all, much more viable reasons to his illusion and appearance. The conversation they had next dispelled her fears.

Savil heard the man stop weaving magic on his voice, again – Savil didn't notice he had done it again, apologizing to Vanyel for doing so. _'Well, at least he doesn't seem to want Vanyel for_ _ **that**_ _, otherwise he'd just overwhelm Vanyel with lust and take him'_

She watched as the man explained magic to her nephew, the explanation was what was generally accepted at the K'Treva and K'Sheyna Vales. _'This Fernel Landsong must be from there'_ Savil thought, _'His features match most of them, though he is a shade lighter, and using node magic, that pretty much confirms it'_ Still though, what did he want?

As the conversation continued, another of Savil's theory was confirmed, _'I see, so this mage is seeing something in Vanyel that I couldn't'_ Savil was concerned though, if Vanyel's mage gift was so latent inside of him that even his own very powerful Herald-Mage aunt couldn't see it, how did this mage know? It must either be weak or repressed by his own self. That was a mystery she would not find the answer to in this vision.

Since Savil couldn't quite answer that herself, she optioned to listen to their conversation instead, it didn't take long before Fernel asked Vanyel to come with him. Vanyel seemed to hesitate, but Savil knew he had already made up his mind.

Then Fernel sensed her approach, opened up a gate and jumped, Vanyel wasn't asked again, he _chose_ to follow, he chose to leave, he leapt at the gate, then it closed.

Savil blinked the blank dots out of her eyes; she looked at the outside through the window directly in front of her. It was night now, it was noon when she started her spell. That long? Savil needed to work on this magic, from what Moondance and Starwind told her, the casters could see the past while simultaneously stopping the present. She still hadn't mastered it yet, well considering she did it alone when Moondance and Starwind wouldn't dare to, she counted her use of the spell exemplary.

' _Now'_ , Savil thought, _'This is the candlemark to put at least part of this puzzle together'_ Savil felt somewhat of a trickling rage at what her nephew endured throughout the vision, and if Savil was right, there were many more incidents like that in the past.

 _:Kellan:_ Savil reached out, feeling that her companion was near, _:Have the other Heralds arrived yet?:_ She asked.

 _:You're finally done? Thank the heavens, the other Heralds were getting worried:_ Kellan said, _:Especially when they found out that the spell you did wasn't intended to be done alone:_ Kellan's words held trust to Savil's skill, but she still heard the worry in it.

 _:Bah, all in the Herald's work Kellan:_ Savil said, her voice a little weary, but nonetheless strong, _:Tell the Heralds I'm going down now, have them gather at the living room – including my brother, his wife and that armsmaster of his'_ Savil's voice held a touch of fire in them, she could feel Kellan's worry.

 _:I'll explain in due time Kellan:_ Savil said, _:Just please have them gathered:_ She felt Kellan give an affirmative answer, judging by the feeling she gave.

' _Now'_ Savil thought, _'Prepare yourself Savil, you'll need it'_ Dealing with her brother, especially in a precarious situation such as this, it would take all her control not lash out at him, she knew she had to be a neutral here, but this was family.

Savil stood up, stretched her muscles and bones and walked, taking leisure steps, not to relax but to ready herself for the upcoming conversation. She walked the steps down, raising her restraint. She reached the bottom and came upon the Heralds and her brother along with his wife and _that_ armsmaster.

There was Tantras, Lancir, and another Herald she had seen as a trainee with Kilcheas but she didn't know his name. The gathered looked up as they heard Savil's footsteps. Tantras and Lancir looked to be worried, understandable, Savil knew that her face was set in stone right now, coupled with the magic she worked, they must have thought she was tired. Savil was though, but that wasn't the reason for her stony gaze.

Treesa had red eyes, held by the shoulder by Withen, comforting her wife. The armsmaster, Jervis was in a chair beside them. He looked to be uncomfortable here. _'He should be'_ Savil thought, _'The only thing that's keeping me from blasting him right now is… Well what's keeping me exactly?'_ Savil pondered on this, _'Oh yeah, right, the conscience'_ Savil nodded on her reasoning.

Savil sat down in the chair at the front, separating the Heralds and her brother. There was silence for a moment before the Herald whose name she did not know spoke, "The spells that were used here" He said tentatively, "What was it?" Savil saw a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

Savil put her gaze toward the fireplace, where wood was burning crisply, "The second spell was a gate" She heard Tantras and Lancir draw in sharp breaths, by the time they came here she had already repaired the damage the gate had done and so they couldn't have sensed it.

"A gate?" Tantras asked, "A mage _that_ powerful came here?" Lancir looked to be just as alarmed as Tantras, the others, including the other Herald that first asked the question looked to be confused.

"Indeed" Savil answered, "The second spell, it wasn't something I have ever felt before" If Tantras and Lancir looked alarmed then, they were positively hysterical right now. Savil being ignorant of a spell was unheard of.

"It was a paralytic spell, he used it as an area spell. He drew in the power of nodes farther than I could sense, and then he managed to contain it at Forst Reach and stop Vanyel from being affected" Savil managed to stay calm during that.

"Wait, Herald-Mage Savil" The other Herald said, Savil really had to know that man's name, "What's a gate spell? And what is this paralytic area spell?" His eyes held puzzlement In them. So not a Herald-Mage then, he would have known the gate spell otherwise.

"The gate spell" Savil said, "Is a spell that allows a mage to cross the boundaries of the land itself in an instant" She watched the Herald's eyes grew large in wonderment. "This paralytic area spell, it's a spell I haven't felt before in my life. The mage who did this probably created it" Her words worried the Herald, she could see it.

"Stop these impertinent questions!" Savil was startled at the shout, she turned to the left, it was her brother, his face held weariness and impatience in them, "Savil, sister, please, what happened to my son?"

Savil had to hold back a sharp retort, her calming preparation proved useful. Whatever Vanyel had gone through, it made him choose to leave than to stay, she wanted to slap that to Withen, but she had to make sure that it was tactful. Savil saw Withen's tired face, and she felt a sting of sympathy for him, he had gone through enough this day.

"Withen, the mage, he didn't take Vanyel" Withen raised his head, a ray of hope shining through him, "Vanyel, he… He came with him" Savil expected Withen to be angry, but he wasn't, she could see it in his eyes, Withen was crushed.

"What?" Withen asked, "My son left, _willingly_ , with that man?" His voice shook; his posture rigid. Savil realized that Withen was probably stopping his tears. Their father taught them that a real man never cried, Savil snorted at that, silently, of course.

"Yes" Savil answered, "When the man made the gate, he didn't ask Vanyel to come with him again, he just jumped, Vanyel chose to jump after him" Savil saw that Withen was slowly losing control of his tears, Treesa was certainly sobbing now.

"Why would my child do that?" Treesa asked, "Why would he leave?" She was choking on her voice now.

Savil snorted, out loud, the rest of the people in the room were shocked by her callousness, her control for calm was losing right now, she had to understand why they would allow such a thing to Vanyel.

"How could he not?" Savil asked no one in particular, "The spell I cast let me see the past Withen, I saw what you allowed happen to Vanyel along with that armsmaster of yours" Withen was losing his sadness and quickly replaced by anger, the armsmaster avoided her gaze. "And if I am right, it had happened many times in the past hasn't it?" The armsmaster dipped his gaze downward, moved by guilt.

Withen stood up, "Now you see here Savil, I had to train Vanyel. He is _my_ heir!" His voice echoed throughout the room. Savil did not speak, she merely pinned Withen with a gaze. Withen gazed back, unwilling to back down.

They stared off for a moment before Savil sighed, "Tell me truth brother" She said, "Heir training was never _that_ intense for any noble house that I have encountered, and I have been through Karse"

Withen dropped his gaze, avoiding Savil's eyes, "That is the truth Savil" He seemed unwilling to further back up his words.

Savil stood up, his gaze never leaving Withen, "Vanyel, he was Fey wasn't he?" She heard the heralds suck in their breaths, saw the armsmaster looking down, Treesa looking away. It was a term here in Valdemar to refer to Shaych'a'chern, most of everyone knew what it meant.

Withen snapped his gaze up, "You don't know what you're talking about Savil!" Withen said, his anger palpable. But Savil was unmoving.

"I know what I am talking about Withen, I have been through the lands of the Tayledras brothers, I saw the signs!" Savil's anger was as equally daunting as Withen. "How could you Withen? To allow your _own_ child that abuse, and all for what? So you can protect your damn reputation?" She wasn't backing down.

"You must understand then! Vanyel was _Fey_ , Savil, I am his father, I had to save him from himself" Withen looked as if he believed his own words, this inspired Savil's anger to deepen.

"Understand this then _Withen_ , you caused your own son to choose to leave with a stranger than to stay with his own family" Savil knew her words were scathing, her tone more so, but she needed to hit this home to Withen, and it worked. Withen looked to be punched in the stomach, he sat down heavily, Treesa avoiding looking at him or anyone else but a piece of the wooden floor she was staring at.

There was uncomfortable silence, no one spoke, only the sound of the burning fireplace kept the room from drowning in silence. A few moments passed by like this, broken only when WIthen sighed audibly, then sat down heavily. He was beaten, in more ways than one.

Savil sighed as well, she too sat down, feeling the tension in her body reaching a point where she needed to relax. She looked to the armsmaster, she had to talk with him too. What the man was thinking when he broke Vanyel's arm, she could not know, but she'd be damned if she didn't try to find out.

"You, armsmaster, what did you do to Vanyel?" Savil asked, the armsmaster had his posture rigid, the fear he could feel was not something normal people could feel, but Savil was a Herald, even if she didn't have empathy, she could feel it.

"Yes milord Herald?" He asked, he tried his best not to stutter, Savil admired that, she melted down men with lesser gaze and voice than she had now.

"I want to know something" Savil made it so her gaze seemed to penetrate him, "Why did you break Vanyel's arm?" Savil could stand a lot of things, being a Herald dictated so, but one thing she could not stand, was a man capable of breaking a child's arm and not be sorry for it.

The armsmaster avoided her gaze. He would not answer. Savil's patience was wearing thin. A few moments passed and he would still not give an answer, Savil was about to _fetch_ the unoccupied chair near them and slam it to the man when a cough startled her, she looked to the source and saw… Withen.

"Is there something you want to say, Withen?" Savil asked her brother, her voice deceptively calm, hiding the confusion she felt.

Withen sighed; "It was me sister, I told Jervis to make a _real_ man out of my son, there was no one I could trust more with that than him"

"Ah I see" Savil said, internally, she decided to hell with conscience… then a slam was heard, the armsmaster was laying down, a chair on top of him. The Herald she did not know went to help him, he helped him up and lay him down, then he raised his hands and started healing him.

' _So the boy had the healing gift'_ Savil thought, _'No wonder they allowed a fresh out of Herald training to come here'_

"What the hell Savil?" Withen shouted, if he was not too tired already, Savil knew he would have probably helped the armsmaster too. Well, there was another chair she could _fetch_ in that room for Withen, if the occasion should ever arise.

"Shut up Withen" Savil said, her gaze toward another chair, Withen followed her gaze, saw the chair, gulped and wisely did not speak.

Savil sighed, she looked around for a moment, Lancir and Tantras looked disgusted with Withen and the armsmaster, Withen wasn't speaking, the armsmaster was on the floor, currently being healed by the Herald she did not know, Treesa… Savil was seriously worried about her right now, she was still, as if she was a statue, she was looking at the fire, only in her eyes did Savil see what she was feeling - it was regret.

The last thing that Savil wanted to do right now was to speak about the mage that came here, but Heralds rarely got to do what they wanted in the face of duty.

"The mage", that startled everyone, "What did you notice about him, Treesa, Withen?" She asked them.

Treesa spoke first, snapped out of her reverie by Savil's question, "The man, he seemed nice enough, he spoke politely" Treesa said, confused by her answer, "That… That was all I noticed…"

Savil just nodded, Withen spoke next, "He was a nice enough lad, I had no reason to suspect him for any kind of wicked intentions" He said, confused too by his answer, he and Treesa looked at each other, confusion written on their gazes.

"I see, that just about confirms it" Savil said, the Heralds weren't following her either, "The man weaved magic on his voice, he weaved it so subtly that I almost didn't notice, _almost_ , and so strongly that it put the both of you" She was pointing at Treesa and Withen, "And probably the rest of those who heard it, effectively incapacitated"

"Are you saying that the man too was a bard?" Tantras asked her, Savil shook her head.

"No Tantras, the man, he didn't sing, he just spoke" Savil noticed the growing shock showing on their faces.

"That can't be… can it?" Herald Lancir spoke, it was rhetorical.

"I couldn't believe it at first, but it was unmistakable, the mage spoke" Savil could see the implications settling on faces of Lancir and Tantras.

"What does that mean, exactly?" Savil snapped her eyes towards Withen, his tone was subdued.

' _As it should be'_ Savil thought vindictively. That reminded her that she was a vindictive bitch who was not above calling herself a bitch in her internal monologues.

Savil considered snapping an answer, but she felt sorry for her brother right now more than the anger that was predominant before. She decided to be more delicate.

"It means, brother, that the mage who took Vanyel works magics that even we, the Heralds of Valdemar know nothing of"

Confusion settled on Withen and Treesa's face. A few moments passed like that, to Savil it was comical, the direness of the situation kept her from laughing. Then, as if a lightning struck, their faces morphed – it now showed only fear, a fear for their offspring no doubt.

' _The implications has settled in no doubt'_ Savil thought, she felt Kellan snort.

"My Vanyel!" Treesa shrieked, the sobbing that had stopped before continued now as well.

"This man, you say he is more powerful than the Herald? How are you to find him then?" Withen phrased it a question, but his tone held more of a command.

Savil sagged in her chair, she truly did not know how. Withen's face crumbled even more at the sight of her sister taking that pose – she rarely did that, after all, and the few times Savil could remember sagging down a chair was when she felt truly and well lost.

"I… I don't know brother" Savil stated what they all already knew, but she also knew that this was not something her brother and his wife should be hearing, so she decided for a change of direction.

"But I also know that it is the duty of a Herald to protect Valdemar and its inhabitants, Rest assured brother, Treesa, we will not stop looking for your son, and the mage who did this will pay"

That seemed to lighten them up, and like a switch the whole room seemed to lighten up as well. Tantras, Lancir and the young Herald she did not know had small smiles on their faces, Withen and Treesa, though not smiling, held the barest hints of hope etched on their expressions.

Savil smiled a little inside, though she wasn't really a people-person Herald, she knew how to comfort those who were touched by tragedy. It seemed to her, that the propaganda the kingdom was spreading was useful after all.


End file.
